


Away We Go

by crazycatlady713



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Boys In Love, Cars, Feelings, First Kiss, Gay, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7886161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazycatlady713/pseuds/crazycatlady713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mutants, ninjas, aliens, rampaging slime monsters...he's faced down all and came away (relatively) unscathed. But the prospect of coming face-to-face with the boy of his dreams is too much for Donnie. He's been locking himself in the lab under the pretense of "working" in order to avoid him, a tactic that's proven successful - the less of Casey he sees, the deeper into denial he goes. Until a little car trouble has Casey begging him for help, and Donnie has no choice but to face reality.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: Contains naughty words and crude humor. Also, I do not own any of these characters. Please don't sue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Away We Go

He's here. Again. Just like he was yesterday, and will most likely be tomorrow.

Donnie doesn't begrudge Casey staying over. It's something of a tacit understanding that he's welcome to stay whenever he wants, in fact. It's no secret he doesn't have the best home life. And Raph feels better knowing he's with them, instead of running around on his own.

He doesn't mind that the sight of Casey's dirty socks on the floor has become commonplace. Nor does he mind how he has to hide the Mountain Dew to keep him from drinking it all. Even his seeming inability to wash that crusty hoodie no longer bugs him. All minor annoyances, ones that he's long ago grown accustomed to.

What he _does_ mind though, is how he feels while in his presence.

Annoyed by his grandiose tales but wanting nothing more than to hear him talk. Thinking him brash and reckless, but impressed by his bravery. Wanting to be near him, to hold him, and wanting to be as far away from him as possible at the same time. More often than not, he opts for the latter.

He doesn't even know how it all started. He thought Casey saving his life might've been the cause for the change. But he knows it started long before that, even if he can't pinpoint exactly where. But it started nonetheless. Like a wave developing into a tsunami, the transition was slow, steady. And by the time he knew what was happening, he was already drowning.

He had every reason to hate him after their initial meeting. His arrogance, his laziness, his odor. Good god, his odor. He hated the way April seemed so taken with him almost instantly. He hated how easy it was for him to befriend his brothers. He hated that, even without any kind of martial arts training, he still managed to hold his own in a fight.

Donnie fought so hard in every respect. All the years devoted to training, to learning, trying to become _better_. He knows his achievements are nothing to sneeze at, but they seem so meaningless somehow. So hollow, compared to how effortless Casey makes it all look.

He developed a grudging respect for him after a while, even deigned to compliment him once or twice. What he once regarded as arrogance he now saw as courage. Casey never wavered during a fight, never backed down even with the cards stacked against him. It was an admirable trait, he had to admit.

He started to notice the little things after that. His impish smile, his boisterous laugh, his easy-going nature. Even his blind devotion to that smelly hoodie started to become endearing. He especially liked how nothing he could do seemed to ruffle Casey's feathers. He'd shrug off all his insults, retaliating with his own torrent of put-downs. Donnie would sometimes pick fights with him just for the shear hell of it. It was a contest of wills almost, a way to see if he could break Casey down enough to make him go away. He was always secretly pleased that it never worked.

He thought at first it was respect for a fellow warrior that he was feeling. He thought he was just confused. But he knows different, even if he doesn't want to admit it. He knows what he feels for Casey outshines whatever he had for April. He's starting to question whether he felt anything for her at all now, or if it was all just an attempt at "normal."

Which only made him hate Casey more. His arrival has unearthed things he'd rather have stayed hidden. So he hides himself away instead. He feels he's different enough as it is.

He excuses himself as soon as he hears Casey come in and disappears into his lab. There's laughter coming from the kitchen, and the soft hiss of a soda can opening. He wishes he could go and join in the conversation, pal around like everything is normal. But there's far too much work to be done. Antidotes to be found, subjects to be researched. Lots of things to do that need him to stay in his lab and away from Casey.

"The lair is starting to feel more like his home than mine," he mutters to himself. He narrows his eyes at the frozen mass of goop in the corner. "No, It's not like I want to live in seclusion all my life and never find happiness. It's just...complicated, okay?"

A single flash-frozen eye seems to watch him as he moves around the room. He retrieves several beakers from a cabinet, trying not to make eye contact.

"Don't look at me like that, okay? I really do have a ton of work to do. I've explained this before, I'm not 'rationalizing' anything." He sets his equipment down and drops hard onto his bench. He holds his head in his hands, sighing heavily. "Why am I explaining this to you, anyway? It's not like you have any idea what I'm going through. Or like you can even respond or anything. You know, being a frozen mass of mutagen and all. Come to think of it, maybe I _have_ been spending too much time in here." 

He jumps at the sound of a loud knock on the door, almost sending the beakers flying to the floor. "Who you talkin' to in there?" Casey says from the other side, the doorknob rattling as he tries to open it. "C'mon Dildo Faggins, open up! I need to talk to you."

Donnie's eyes widen at the sound of Casey's voice. He looks beseechingly to Timmy as the pounding on the door intensifies.

"Dude, I know you're in there! C'mon, this is important!"

He wonders for a moment if he should just let Casey knock on the door till his hand goes numb, but realizes it won't help. If he knows Casey, he'll most likely sit in front of it till Donnie unlocks it. And he has to open it eventually.

Donnie takes a quick stock of his surroundings, tapping his chin as he formulates a plan. He has plenty of bottled water in the mini fridge and snacks in the cabinet. The fire blanket is kind of scratchy but it'll do at bedtime. And he's got plenty of buckets to use as toilets. He nods to himself. This is good, he thinks. This'll work.

"Donnie, please! I need you!"

His heart unravels. If Casey only knew how much he longed to hear those words escape his lips. Lying on Donnie's bed, his hair tousled, his clothes a tangled mass on the floor. His lips parted, he reaches up to pull Donnie towards him...

"Dooonnnniiiieee!"

"Alright, alright! I'm coming! Hold your damn horses!"

He can't stay in his lab till Doomsday, despite how appealing it sounds. And he can't keep hiding from his problems. It's cowardly and he knows it. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He strides toward the door, hoping Casey doesn't notice the sheen of sweat on his brow. Or the half a stock pressing against the inside of his plastron.

"Hey," Casey says, taking a swig from a can of soda. He's leaning in the doorway, a single index finger hooked through a belt loop. His tattered jeans hang low on his hips, exposing a small patch of flesh. Something about his stance seems staged, though. Practiced.

And then he flashes that lopsided grin of his and Donnie melts.

"What do you want?" he barks, hand still clutched on the doorknob.

"Whatcha doin' in here?" Casey says as he breezes past him. He sticks a couple fingers down the neck of a beaker and chuckles. "Science shit?"

"Yes, Casey. Science shit," Donnie says, snatching the beaker from him. "Astute observation. Keep up the good work and maybe _next_ year you won't have to ride the short bus to school."

"For your information, I _don't_ ride the short bus to school," he says, pulling up a stool to the work table. "I drive now, heh. Which is kinda why I'm here. I got rear-ended on the way home today."

"I don't want to hear about your sex life."

"Oooh! Good one, D! Up top!"

Donnie glances at his upraised palm before turning back to his work.

"...Just gonna leave me hangin', huh? That's fine. I'm just glad bein' cramped up in here hasn't made you run outta jokes. I kinda miss our little verbal sparring sessions, ya know? So uh, what _are_ you doin' in here that's keepin' you so busy I never see you around anymore? It's almost like you're avoiding me or something."

"Someone's awfully full of himself," Donnie says with a derisive snort. "It's not like we've got the looming threat of evil ninja warlords or alien brain monsters to worry about or anything. Nope. Must be you. There's literally no other reason I'd be hard at work in my lab." He catches sight of Timmy at the other end of the room. He's so glad he can't talk. "Now then, is there an actual reason you're here? Or do you just want to bug me?"

"Like I said, I got rear-ended before. Huge dent in the bumper."

"And?"

" _And_ , I need to get it out before my dad sees it!" Casey says, practically screaming. "Dude, my dad loves that car more than me, he will literally kill me if he finds out. I'm not joking either, he showed me the spot in the backyard where he'd bury me. All the way at the back, right under the tree...Pretty nice, actually."

Donnie sighs and slams his notebook closed. "So then fix it Casey, what the hell do you need me for?"

"I can't, man! If I could, I would've done it already!"

"I watched you bring that rusted-out hunk of junk down on the farm back to life like an automotive Dr. Frankenstein, and you're telling me you can't fix a dent?"

"I know, right? It's like, irony or whatever." Casey inches closer to him, that beguiling smile creeping across his face again. "C'mon dude, I know you're handy with this kinda thing. Heh. _Handy_. Anyway, if anyone can help me, it's you. 'Sides...I'll make it worth your while."

Donnie closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "You mean you'll leave me alone?"

"You're a gentleman and a scholar, Don!" Casey says, jumping to his feet. "C'mon, it's in the garage."

"I didn't say I would!" Donnie protests. But it's too late. Casey is already ushering him out the door.

***

His chin in his hand and his toolbox ready, Donnie assesses the damage. Casey, ever impatient, hops from one foot to the other as he awaits a response.

"Well, the good news is that it'll be relatively easy to fix," Donnie says, crouching low. "Boiling water will actually do the job. Bad news is, it might take a little longer than you'd hoped, since I have to take it off first."

Casey raises a single eyebrow and smiles. "You gotta take it all off, huh? Don't sound too bad to me, heh."

"...Why don't you go put a pot of water on the stove while I get started?"

"Sure thing, boss."

He leaves, and the room falls unnervingly quiet. The silence left in Casey's wake has an abruptness to it, Donnie thinks. Like all the sound in the world just left with him. Or like he's suddenly gone deaf. The steady, rhythmic click of the jack confirms otherwise, much to his relief. But Donnie can't shake the feeling that something is irrevocably _gone_ without Casey. Like a black void stands where he once was, sucking in all the light and sound and life. But he knows what it is. 

He realizes that all the time spent in self-imposed exile has done nothing to quell his feelings. Instead it's actually reinforced them, tempered them like steel. Made him want Casey all the more. 

He thinks of how much he's missed all the crude jokes. He missed fighting alongside him and fighting _with_ him. He missed sharing the occasional laugh together. He missed just being near him. And he wonders how he'll ever be able to go back into hiding after this. 

He wonders what Splinter would say to him. Something profound and vague and entirely unhelpful, he thinks. "Once a fire is started it is very difficult to put out," or something to that effect. He might even tell him to just admit his feelings. But he can't. He knows Casey doesn't feel the same way. He knows that even if he _did_ have a thing for guys, Donnie certainly wouldn't be at the top of his list. Why would he? He's a freak.

He removes the last of the bolts and pulls the bumper free as Casey reappears. "Hot stuff comin' through!" he announces, holding the steaming pot at arm's length with an oven mitt. "I got boiling water here too, heh."

Donnie rolls the tire aside and places the bumper down on the ground. He takes the pot from Casey without a word and pours it over the dent. It's taking a concerted effort to avoid looking at him.

"You okay, Don?" Casey asks. Donnie goes right on ignoring him. "You know, uh...I know I act like a dumbass a lot of the time and we've had our differences in the past, but I think we're cool now, so...if something's botherin' you, you can come talk to me. Ya know?"

Donnie wonders if he could. If he tells him the truth, tells him everything...what's the worse that could happen? He says sorry, no, not interested? He's dealt with worse. He'll survive.

"Actually, Case...?"

"Yeah?"

But is polite rejection _really_ the worse thing that can happen? Maybe they aren't as "cool" as Casey claims. Maybe he's so repulsed by Donnie's confession he lashes out. He might just yell at him, call him cruel names. Or hit him. Donnie can see it already. His face contorted with disgust as he reels back, his fist smashing into his face hard enough to knock out a couple teeth.

Donnie remains silent. Casey is staring at him now, eyebrows raised. "Uh...You were gonna say something?"

And after he knocks his teeth out, Casey will go and tell the others their brother is a pervert. Mikey and Leo will give him a sad, pitying look. The kind that says, "I always knew there was something wrong with you. Poor thing." Raph will sneer at him, say he's not a real man. They'll shun him. A wall will rise up, them on one side and he on the other. He'll be alone.

Donnie turns away, defeated. "Just...hand me the hammer, please."

Casey hands it over. He looks like he's about to say something, but decides against it. Donnie begins hammering out the dent, the boiling water having softened the urethane to a more malleable state. The prolonged silence has become awkward, but he won't break it. They work together reapplying the bumper, saying nothing beyond the occasional, "can you hand me the___?" and "thanks." Which is just as well, Donnie thinks. He is in no mood to talk.

"Good as new," Donnie says finally, wiping the bumper with a rag. "Well, mostly. There's some slight discoloration, but otherwise, it looks pretty good. I doubt your dad will notice."

"Thanks, man. You're a life saver."

"Don't mention it." Donnie turns away, heading for the door. Back into isolation. "See you around."

"Hey, wait up!"

Donnie rolls his eyes as he turns around. "What is it _now_ , Casey? I got a lot of wo..."

Before he can finish his sentence, before he can even _think_ , Casey's arms are around him. His lips, those same lips he's dreamt of for months, are against his. The moment he's fantasized about for so long is _happening_ , he thinks, but it still doesn't feel real. This is a dream, it must be. One so lucid it's indistinguishable from real life, but a dream all the same. He'll wake up soon, he's sure of it. And he'll find himself in bed like he has so many times before, alone.

Even so, he closes his eyes and encircles Casey's waist. If this is a dream it's a damn good one, and he's going to enjoy it while it lasts. Casey's fingers trail across his jaw as their kiss deepens, and he can feel his heart pounding against his own. He wishes it could go on forever. And when he feels Casey pull away from him, it's with great reluctance that he opens his eyes.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," he says, his hands still around Casey's waist. "But what was that for? Is auto repair really that much of a turn-on for you?"

"Sorry, I uh...I've been wantin' to tell you for a while that I liked you, but I ain't too good with words," he says, shrugging. "And sorry if I was like, I dunno, too aggressive or whatever. I didn't really know what I should do. I was just kinda hopin' you'd make the first move, but then you started to leave and I was like...nah, I'm gonna end up old and grey before you say anything, so I just kinda went for it."

"It was a good approach. Definitely got the point across." 

"Haha, thanks. I thought it was better than Raph's and Leo's ideas," Casey says. "Raph was all like, 'dude, just go in there and whip your dick out already. The sexual tension is suffocatin' us,' and Leo was like, 'no! That's gross, and crazy, and probably illegal! Just talk to him,' and I'm like..."

And just like that, the endorphin high of his first real kiss evaporates like mist. Donnie releases him and steps back. "Wait a minute...Raph? Leo? Th-they _know_? And they helped you _plan_ this?"

A curious look passes across Casey's face before he bursts into laughter. "Dude... _everyone_ knows. No offense, but you're like, not subtle at all. The way you take off everytime I come over, kinda obvious. And yeah, I might've asked for some advice and whatever. It was Mikey's idea I ask for your help with the car, by the way. Wouldn't have thought of that on my own, heh."

"Et tu, Mikey?" Donnie says, rubbing his temples. "So you didn't really need help with the car after all?"

"Nah, course not. I could've fixed it myself but I didn't really need to. This car's old as shit, my dad doesn't give a rat's ass about it. But Mikey thought it'd be a good way to like, lure you outta the lab and give us an opportunity to bond or whatever. I'd say it worked." He leans in for another kiss, but Donnie hardly seems to notice.

"This is unbelievable," he whispers, staring straight ahead. 

"That's a little dramatic, don'tcha think? I mean, I _am_ pretty dreamy and all but like..."

"No. I mean, it's just...all this time I was afraid to say anything. I was afraid you'd think I was disgusting. I was afraid my family would hate me. And it turns out that not only do you actually like me back, but my family already knows. Even Mikey. _Mikey_! Christ on a cracker..."

"Yeah, it's kinda weird how you're like, super smart and super dumb at the same time. That's why I like you though, heh. Also, you're pretty hot." Casey fishes through his pockets for a moment and pulls out his car keys. "So anyways, why don't we enjoy the fruits of your labor and go for a ride?"

"You want to go somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. That's why I got my keys out. Unless you wanna stick around and make out some more in this dirty ass garage? Or would you rather go back in your lab and hang out with the blobsicle some more?"

Donnie smiles then, something he hasn't done in a long time. It feels good. "Don't speak ill of Timmy, he's a very good listener."

"Yeah well, I'm hotter, so I win." Casey takes him by the hand and leads him to the car. "C'mon, let's get the hell outta here. I got the feeling you wanna talk about some stuff, and I think clearer when I'm drivin'."

"Okay, but don't go getting rear-ended again," Donnie says, sliding into the passenger seat. "I don't share."

"Same joke twice? You can do better."

"I think I'm doing pretty good, actually," he says, giving Casey a quick kiss as he starts the engine.

**Author's Note:**

> Here in my car/Where the image breaks down/Will you visit me please/If I open my door ~ _Cars_ by Gary Numan


End file.
